Slytherin Contracts
by HufflepuffUnicorn21
Summary: The fifth years and above get re-sorted, and Harry gets stuck in a marriage contract with Pansy Parkinson!
1. Re-Sorting

Harry was being called down to the headmaster's office again. He wasn't sure what he had done this time, if you didn't count hexing Malfoy from behind a suit of armor. And, for some completely unknown reason, Snape always seemed to count hexing Malfoy.

Harry was in his fifth year at Hogwarts, and it was going great. Cho was prettier than last year, and Ron and Hermione were getting awkward. It was a little laughable, and Harry often found himself wondering what was going to happen between the two. He'd have to ask Trelawny.

Speaking of teachers, Hogwarts had gotten a new DADA teacher. Her name was Umbridge, and she was ugly as moldy cheese. Really moldy cheese. Harry didn't even pretend his blow ups at her, even though he laughed it off after her detentions, because Hermione could wave her wand and fix the cut. It was funny how Hermione was able to overcome curses like that.

Harry was passing the boys bathroom on the fifth floor, and ran into Neville Longbottom, who was slumped down on a staircase. Harry's eyes narrowed as they took in the foot sunk into the stair, and Neville's body lurched forward.

"Oh, hey Harry!" Neville called. "Could you…um…help me?"

"Sure." Harry headed up the stairs, and helped pull Neville out of the staircase, and his foot came loose with a small sucking noise. Neville grinned slightly, apologized and thanked Harry, and turned to go up the stairs, avoiding the stair this time. Harry, feeling completely bored, began moving his feet in a circular motion, drawing something into the slight dust and dirt. When he stepped away from the drawing, he stared, then rubbed a foot over it, covering it, destroying it. Then he took off, rushing up the stairs, for the dust had reminded him about Dumbledore.

When Harry got to the entrance of Dumbledore's office, the griffin faced him with a slightly stern look. Harry had learned a couple weeks ago that the griffin could talk.

"Late much?" the griffin asked, snorting.

"Yeah, sorry, friend got caught on the stairs," Harry explained lamely.

"Sure. Or you were messing around with a _girl,_ " the griffin said, and when Harry opened his mouth to disagree, the griffin added, "and it's not me you need to be apologizing to. The Headmaster has been waiting."

"Uh, can I go in?"

"Do you have the _password_?" the griffin asked, saying _password_ as if he was trying to say it to a toddler learning to speak.

"I wasn't given it," Harry answered, frowning.

The griffin chuckled, and said, "Then you can't expect to be let in. Hurry on now." Harry left the griffin behind, realizing it had probably been a joke. Shaking his head, he headed back to the common room. Only to find he was locked out of that one too!

"Fifth years and above are re-sorted," The Fat Lady explained, "if only because the students have changed. First years are sorted, and then fifth years are sorted again, because their true colors have been revealed. Yes, they just started that this year."

Harry thanked her, heading down to the Great Hall, wondering why this was happening in the middle of the year, instead of in the beginning. When he got down, all the fifth years were gathered in a bundle on the outside of the Great Hall, the sixth years in another, and then the seventh years. All of them were whispering, and Harry spotted Ron and Hermione, who waved him over.

"Oh no, this is awful," Hermione fretted. "We might be separated, and have to be enemies, and then—"

"Hermione, relax," Ron said. "Even if we get separated, we can be friends. The house hatreds aren't set in stone."

"Slytherin's is," Harry stated, and Ron nodded. Then the seventh years disappeared into the Great Hall. Fred and George Weasley were talking to another, looking annoyed, and Angelina Johnson was looking nervous.

They could hear the Sorting Hat as it shouted out houses, and when the seventh years were done, the sixth years entered. Then the fifth years.

"It will not be in order," McGonigal said briskly. "I haven't the time for that, and it was a bit sudden…anyway…Lavender Brown!"

Lavender clambered onto the stool, and the Sorting Hat began to think. "Gryffindor!" it shouted. Lavender looked relieved.

"Seamus Finnigan!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Hannah Abbot!"

"Gryffindor!"

Hermione Granger!"

Hermione looked sick as she climbed onto the stool. "Ravenclaw!" the hat shrieked to the hall.

"Draco Malfoy!"

"Slytherin!"

"Ron Weasley!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Harry Potter!"

Harry walked up and sat on the stool. The hat was on his head, and he heard it thinking, almost out loud, even though he knew the others could not hear.

"Slytherin!"

Harry froze, and Ron looked up from the Hufflepuff table. Hermione's jaw dropped, and she looked away. Malfoy raised his head, and met Harry's eyes. Confusion was showing through Malfoy's eyes, and he looked back down, shaking his head.

After sitting at the table, Harry watched the finishing at the Sorting.

"Padma Patil!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Parvati Patil!"

"Gryffindor!"

"Neville Longbottom!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Blaise Zabini!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Pansy Parkinson!"

"Slytherin!"

"Terry Boot!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Susan Bones!"

"Hufflepuff!"

Harry glanced around the Hall, searching for the Gryffindor Quidditch team members. Katie Bell was slumped in her seat at the Gryffindor table, Angelina Johnson looking like she was swearing at the Ravenclaw table, Alicia Spinnet glaring at Sprout from the Hufflepuff table, Fred Weasley glaring at the hat at the Gryffindor table, and George Weasley shaking his head at the Hufflepuff one. And Ron was at the Hufflepuff table. Only Alicia, Katie, and Fred were left.

Cho Chang was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, same as always, and Lee Jordan was sorted into Hufflepuff, it seemed. A couple seventh and sixth years from all houses were now sitting at the Slytherin table, but nobody but the normal Slytherins from Harry's year.

Pansy Parkinson was staring at Harry, shock in her cold black eyes. Then the shock faded, to be replaced with…sympathy? Harry looked away, and to the front of the Hall. Dumbledore was speaking, so Harry drowned him out, and exited the Hall, sighing as heads turned.

When Harry was outside, he slumped forward, sitting on a bench. As soon as his house had changed, his robes had changed too. His green and black robes almost shone. Harry wasn't quite sure what to do.

"Harry?"

He turned. "Parkinson?" he asked.

"Pansy, if you would," she said, her eyes shining. Her black hair was curled in a tight bun at the top of her head, and she was smiling slightly. "It's reassuring to know that you'll be in our house now," she continued. "We could use you for the Quidditch team. Goodness knows Draco sucks."

"Did Dumbledore say anything about the Quidditch teams?" Harry asked her.

"Yes," she said. "House prefects will know all the details. Come on, I'll show you the common room."

When she and Harry entered, he noticed the sign posted on the wall.

Slytherin Quidditch Team:

Captain & Chaser: Roger Davies

Chaser: Draco Malfoy

Chaser: Cassius Warrington

Beater: Vincent Crabbe

Beater: Greggory Goyle

Keeper: Miles Bletchley

Seeker: Harry Potter

Malfoy was a _Chaser_? Harry was the _Seeker_?

"Oh good," Pansy said, smiling, satisfied. "You're the Seeker. That's good."

"Alright, where's my dorm?" Harry asked, as rude as possible.

"This way," Pansy said, pointing. "Your stuff should all be in there. See you later, Harry!"

Harry sat on the green bed, and sighed, looking around the room, wondering why this had happened. Dumbledore had made a huge mistake, re-sorting students. And Harry had the nagging feeling that it was only going to get worse.


	2. Talking with Greengrass

When Harry woke the next morning, he was stunned. Staring at the green all around the room, on the bed, on the robes in the corner, and stripes on the wall. Slytherin flags were pinned to the walls, and Harry remembered. The Sorting Hat had re-sorted him into Slytherin. Hermione was a Ravenclaw, and Ron was a Hufflepuff. Harry had been placed on the Slytherin Quidditch team as the Seeker. The Gryffindor team had been split up, leaving only a couple players left to play.

Harry sat up, and looked at the other beds. All were empty, but there was a sign pinned to one of Harry's bedposts.

It read:

 **Classes are canceled today due to the fifth years and above being re-sorted.**

Harry stood up, and when he had finished dressing into his Slytherin robes, he exited the dorm, only to find the common room and hallway empty as well. He went out of the common room, and into the hallway, wondering why it was empty as well.

When he entered the Great Hall, he found everyone. The teachers were kicking students off of their friends tables, and were being herded back to their own table. Hermione was sitting next to Luna Lovegood, dark shadows under her eyes. Ron was talking to Alicia Spinnet, who was waving her hands in the air, an annoyed look on her face. Harry met Ginny Weasley's gaze, and she looked away quickly.

Harry sat down with the Slytherins, and they ignored him. Malfoy was talking quietly with Crabbe and Goyle down at the front of the table. Harry picked at his food, feeling annoyed more than sad.

Someone slid into the seat next to him. Harry ignored them, and took a bite of the eggs on his plate. The person tapped on his shoulder. Harry finally turned.

"Ernie?" Harry demanded.

"Yes," Ernie MacMillan said. "I got sorted into Slytherin as well. You left before I got sorted." He picked at a spot on his green robes, and turned back around to face Harry. "I suppose Slytherin isn't all bad," Ernie commented, gazing around the Hall. "It's actually pretty neat."

Harry looked away, and accidently met the gaze of Pansy Parkinson, who smiled at him. Not sure why this Slytherin animal was staring at him, he turned away, instead looking at Hermione. She met his gaze evenly, and motioned to the doors. Harry stood, leaving the Slytherin table behind as he left the Great Hall. Hermione met him outside the doors.

"Oh Harry!" she exclaimed. He wouldn't look her in the eye. "Now you're with Malfoy, and you're against your own house, and what about Quidditch? The Gryffindor team is split up! Alicia, Ron, and George are in Hufflepuff, Angelina's in Ravenclaw, and you're in Slytherin! Poor Fred and Katie! Ravenclaw lost Roger Davies to Slytherin, and Hufflepuff is the only one with all its players!"

"I'm on the Slytherin team," Harry mumbled.

"Are you the Seeker?"

"Yeah. Are the Gryffindor players on other teams now?" Harry asked.

"Ron's the Keeper for Hufflepuff, George is a Beater for Hufflepuff. I don't think Alicia got in. Angelina's the Ravenclaw Captain, and she's a Chaser. Katie and Fred are still on the Gryffindor team. Then, you're the Slytherin Seeker. Whatever happened to Malfoy? Did he get kicked off?"

"No," Harry replied. "He's a Chaser. Slytherin's Captain is Roger Davies."

"Anyone else you know in Slytherin?" Hermione wondered.

"Only Ernie. I saw that Hannah Abbott got into Gryffindor. And the Patil twins." Harry picked at a nail, and when Hermione did not answer, looked up.

She was looking at the ground, seeming to be devastated. "The Sorting Hat revealed our true colors," Hermione whispered to the ground. "I'm Ravenclaw, Ron's Hufflepuff, and you're…"

"Slytherin."  
"Yes. I'm still not sure you're Slytherin type, however," Hermione mumbled.

"What?" Harry asked. "You don't think I could make it?"

"No, I just-"

"I'll prove you wrong! I'll become a Slytherin! You wait and see!" Harry stormed off, leaving a confused Hermione behind. She'd see. Harry Potter would not go down as the Boy Who Couldn't Handle Change.

When Harry was outside, he was wandering down to the lake, bored. When he reached the shoreline, something emerged out of the water. Harry watched as the tentacle waved slightly and disappeared back into the waves. Harry felt like that. One day he was everything, above the waves. Now he was below, the lowest of the low, a Slytherin.

"Hey, Harry?" He turned. A brown-haired girl was standing behind him, her light eyes curious. "You're a Slytherin, right?" she asked.

"What would you do if I told you I wasn't?" he questioned.

"I'd tell you to check your robes," the brown-haired witch answered, pointing at the green and black tie. Harry chuckled, and she smiled.

"Who are you?" he asked,

"My name's Daphne," she answered. "Daphne Greengrass."

"Ah," Harry said. "And why exactly have you approached me?"  
"I'm not actually sure," she told him. "You seemed to be plotting something down here, and I wondered what it was."

"Plotting how to get myself back to my original house, I suppose," Harry told her, staring out across the lake. "It's not that Slytherin's a bad house, even though I always assumed it was, it's just that Gryffindor is my home."

"I see," Daphne said.

"But do you really?" Harry asked her quickly, turning to face her. "Do you really feel the anger I feel, at being switched from being to good guy to the bad guy? How it felt to lose my friends? You don't. You don't understand."

"But I want too!" she exclaimed. "I want to understand, because I want to help you! Not all Slytherin girls are bitches, Harry. Some of us just got sorted into a house, and shunned by another. It's not my fault I'm a Slytherin. I just am. And I'm proud of it. As proud of it as you are of your old house."

"Pansy's a different story," Harry muttered.

"She's not," Daphne argued. "She's been pretty mean, I'll say that. But you've been pretty mean too! You shunned Draco for trying to help you, and have teased and cursed him every step of the way! His retaliation is only that! Retaliation! _You_ started it!"

"I didn't start it!" Harry yelled. "Malfoy picks fights with me!"

"And you picked them first!" Daphne exclaimed. "You shun him, force him to make friends with only people that revere hate. That is _your_ doing!"

Harry would not give in. She was blaming _him_?

"Malfoy has been nothing but horrible to me for five years," Harry spat.

"And you've been nothing but horrible to him for five years!" Daphne shot back. "If you hadn't started it, you could be friends with him. He tried to be your friend in the beginning, but you shunned him, forcing him out!"

"He only wanted the Boy Who Lived on his side!"

Daphne glared at him, anger simmering in her eyes. Then she shook her head. "If you can't see past someone's actions to their heart," she whispered, "than you're nothing but a fool."

Then she was storming away, leaving Harry to ponder what she meant. An owl swooped down, dropping a letter on his head. Yelling a few choice words at it as flew away, Harry ripped it open. Summons to Dumbledore's office again. Only this time, it had a password on it.


	3. Dumbledore's Speculation

Storming into Dumbledore's office, Harry felt like throwing something. Dumbledore smiled serenely at Harry from his chair behind the desk. "I think," Harry said, a bit breathlessly, "that you owe me an explanation for the Sorting Hat, and the re-sorting."

"Perhaps I do," Dumbledore answered. "But how am I to give an explanation for the behavior of something with a mind of its own? Ask it yourself."

"I'm asking you," Harry said coldly.

Dumbledore looked to the Sorting Hat. "I suppose it sorted you into the house you would've originally been in."

"Ernie MacMillan was never considered for Slytherin," Harry told him, losing patience. "Try again."

Dumbledore opened his mouth, and closed it again. He looked thoughtful. "I suppose the brains in it could be dusting," he said thoughtfully.

" _Dusting?"_ Harry demanded. "Meaning?"

"Well, brains don't last forever," Dumbledore said. "And if the original founders didn't put an anti-dusting charm on it, the brain in the hat could be fading…"

"Are you out of your mind?" Harry yelled, finally losing it. "Brains dusting, me a Slytherin, are you blind? Have you noticed what's been going on?"

"Maybe I haven't," Dumbledore said sternly. "But what I am noticing, is that I'm seeing the Slytherin the Sorting Hat saw."

Harry stopped talking. Dumbledore's blue eyes were cold fire. "If the brains in the Sorting Hat are dusting," Harry said, trying to force calm into his voice, "does that mean that the Sorting Hat was wrong with the re-sorting?"

"Depends," Dumbledore answered, the fire fading. "I have a feeling that Miss Granger was re-sorted wrongly, but, given time, she will adjust to her new house."

"Wait," Harry said, fury seeping into his voice again. "You mean, you're going to leave us in the wrong houses? When you fix whatever's wrong with that Hat, we can go back to normal!"

"That's not how it works," Dumbledore said. "The Sorting Hat re-sorted fifth years and above. It will not re-sort again, until next year, when the current fourth years will be re-sorted. You will stay in your house, Slytherin, and as much as it displeases me to leave you there, you are to stay there. That is my final wording."

Harry felt like throwing something again. But this time, he wanted to throw a spell, not an object.

"As for why I called you here," Dumbledore continued. "I've received an owl."

"Go on," Harry prompted.

"From the Parkinson family," Dumbledore said, his voice growing somber. Harry felt like dying. "It's a contract," Dumbledore said, his voice growing more and more somber. "Signed by both you and Pansy Parkinson's ancestors."

"What's this about?" Harry asked slowly.

"Apparently, both you and her ancestors made a deal. Your family, a long line of Potters, were once in Slytherin, and close to the Parkinson family, who was also in Slytherin. Quite a few generations back, they signed a contract. Both families swore to stay in Slytherin, forever. If this was broken, and one of the family was Sorted differently, a rivalry would be created. The Potters and Parkinsons would hate each other. Which explains Miss Parkinson's rivalry with you and Miss Granger. But…" Dumbledore paused to take a breath. "If the same family was sorted back into Slytherin, the two would be joined until death do them part." Harry let out a strangled yelp.

"You can see where this ends," Dumbledore continued. "As such, I have no power over a contract signed with blood. It was signed, and a blood vow was taken. You and Miss Parkinson will be given a separate dorm, of course—"

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry yelped. "Me getting sorted into Slytherin was a mistake! The…the Sorting Hat's mistake! What happens when I get re-sorted? Is it over?"

"You won't be re-sorted," Dumbledore explained sadly. "You're a Slytherin, and until you each turn seventeen, and can officially be joined, you will spend most of your time with Miss Parkinson. Classes will be changed to fit this, lessons, and you've been removed from the Slytherin team."

"Dumbledore!" Harry moaned. "At least let me play Quidditch!"

"For Slytherin?" Dumbledore questioned. "That is your house now."

"Yes, for Slytherin!" Harry told him. "Professor?" he asked.

"Harry?"

"Are you sure there's nothing you can do to change this?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes. I'm sorry, Harry. This is beyond me. You are dismissed. The effects of this contract will be effective tomorrow."

Harry left Dumbledore's office, feeling horrible. No wonder Pansy had looked so gleeful when Harry had been sorted into Slytherin. This must be her dream come true. Harry's shoulders slumped, and he sank into a random bench in the hallway. Someone sat down next to him. A hand poked at his shoulder, and Harry looked up. Ginny Weasley smiled sadly at him.

"Harry?" she whispered.

"I've got to go," Harry said abruptly, standing. Ginny stood when he did, concern blazing in her eyes.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"No! Yes! Ginny, just leave me alone! Go!" Harry was fuming again. Ginny shook her head backing away.

"It seems the Sorting Hat made the right decision," she whispered, more to herself than him. "You've never blown up like that."

"Leave me alone!"

Ginny left, and Harry sank back down onto the bench. Harry was feeling even more awful with every second that passed. How had his family once been Slytherins? He knew they had been pure-bloods, but still. He thought they'd all been Gryffindors. Which Parkinson had his father had to deal with while he was at school?

Harry stood, walking toward the grounds, needing to breath. Exiting the castle, he walked down, heading for the lake. When he reached it, he stared across it. He had been here already today, and would give anything for that owl to have not come with that letter. The effects would still have taken place, he realized. At least he _knew_ about it now. He wished for someone. Anyone.

His wish did not come true, but Harry waited for at least a half-an-hour before heading back up to the castle. He ran into Daphne Greengrass along the way, and she glared at him. "Look," Harry said, forcing himself to speak. Daphne stopped walking, and turned to him, suspicion lighting up her eyes. "Me and Malfoy, that's just never going to happen. It never would've worked. We have way to different personalities."

"Different personalities?" Daphne spat. "That doesn't matter in a friendship. You and Granger's personalities are as different as an apple and an orange. The only thing you _had_ in common was the fact that you _were_ Gryffindors. That's changed, and you're still friends with her. How are you and Draco any different, besides the fact that you shunned him the first time you met?"

"I didn't shun him," Harry said calmly. "I refused his offer, because I had a friend, and he didn't agree with the Malfoy clan."

"So, you were basically influenced by an early friend," Daphne said coldly. "Real friends don't make you believe in things you think are different."

"Ron didn't pressure me into anything," Harry argued. "I chose it."

"Did you have a good reason?"

"The first time I met Malfoy," Harry answered. "He insulted my guardian, Hagrid. He also insulted muggle-borns and half-bloods, by stating that they didn't belong at Hogwarts. He insulted Hufflepuff, and he's just a lying piece of filth."

"Why would you care about Hufflepuffs?" Daphne inquired. "You've never been friends with a Hufflepuff."

"Ernie MacMillan—"

"Slytherin," Daphne interrupted.

Harry tried again, "Hannah Abbott—"

"Gryffindor, and you were not friends with Hannah."

"Neville Longbottom."

Daphne laughed. "That boy definitely deserves the award for most horrible pure-blood. Besides, what pure-blood gets sorted into Hufflepuff? I mean, come on!"

"I'm a half-blood in Slytherin," Harry countered. "I thought Slytherin only admitted pure-bloods."

"You're from a line of pure-bloods," Daphne answered.

"Ernie MacMillan isn't."

"Do you know his parentage?" Daphne asked curiously. "No, I don't think you do. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get down to the grounds, and you are in the doorway."

Harry moved to the side, and Daphne walked into the grounds, Harry glaring after her.


	4. Bystander Dueling

Harry didn't have time to worry or hate on Daphne Greengrass at the moment. He had enough of him worrying about how to deal with Pansy. If this was out of Dumbledore's hands, he didn't know who could fix this situation. He was definitely not going to get married to Pansy Parkinson. And he was not going to share a dorm with her.

He had blown up at Hermione, who was now not talking to him. He supposed she had a good reason, but even Ron had stopped talking to Harry. Harry hadn't even done anything to Ron! But Ron and Hermione were a duo now, and Harry supposed that blowing up at Hermione would upset Ron as well, but he wasn't quite sure. He could never be quite sure where Ron was concerned.

He was also silently fuming at that damn Hat. It had sorted him wrong, probably sorted Hermione wrong, and had sorted Ron wrong. There was no way Ron was loyal enough to be in Hufflepuff. Neville maybe, but definitely not Ron. Hermione was smart enough to be in Ravenclaw, but Harry had thought that she cared more for bravery. But, if the Sorting Hat had put them in the original houses, Hermione would've been in Ravenclaw.

Harry was confused, but he did not say a word to anyone. After eating dinner, he headed back to the common room. The wall for the Slytherin common room opened as he said the password, and he settled on one of the black couches. Staring at the ceiling, he wondered what to make of the situation he was now in. He was pretty sure that this wasn't a dream, because he had run into a suit of armor on his way to the Great Hall. He'd probably have a bruise.

He also knew that if he didn't do something, and fast, he was going to end up in a situation he was never going to get out of. Harry wasn't sure what to do. Would the contract follow him outside this school? If he got the Hat to re-sort him? Harry didn't have enough information to do anything about it. But he only had until midnight to figure it out. Six hours.

The common room was empty except for the tiny second years messing around. Malfoy was probably out with Greengrass and Parkinson, doing whatever those idiots did after dinner. Probably messing around with a couple first years.

Harry got up off the couch, and exited the common room, looking for Malfoy. He could use a decent fight right now. When he rounded the corner that lead to the library, he spotted them. Malfoy, Greengrass, and Goyle. No Parkinson or Crabbe in sight. Then he saw who Malfoy and his group were messing with. He leaned against a wall, plainly in sight of Ron and Hermione. Hermione was red with fury, probably telling Malfoy off. Ron was the one that noticed Harry.

Ron's eyes moved to the wall Harry was leaning against, and nudged Hermione, who looked up, looking relieved. Then she saw Harry's stony expression, the way he did not move to help her. Harry wasn't going anywhere. This was the first of many tests to prove to Hermione that he could be a Slytherin. Malfoy turned around halfway, and he saw Harry, who was making no rush to his victims. Instead of rescuing Hermione and Ron, Harry gave a slight nod to Malfoy, a 'go ahead' kind of gesture.

Greengrass raised her wand, pointing it at Hermione, who drew hers. Malfoy slipped his wand out of his sleeve, aiming at Ron. Ron was already gripping his wand. Hermione said something else, and Harry's wand slipped out of his pocket and into his hand.

Maybe it was going to far, but he knew he would attempt to stop Hermione and Ron from running away if he had to. Hermione did not notice the gesture, and conjured a shield in front of her and Ron. Malfoy snickered, and Greengrass smiled slightly. They didn't fire spells, they waited. Eventually the shield came crashing down as Goyle knocked Hermione's wand out of her hand. Greengrass struck, shrieking a spell. Hermione was knocked backward into the wall, collapsing in a cloud of dust. Ron yelled, and Harry made no move toward them.

Ron fired, knocking Goyle against a suit of armor and making Hermione's wand fall. "Accio!" Ron yelled, and Hermione's wand zoomed to his hand. He shot a Stunning spell at Greengrass, who deftly blocked it. Malfoy sent a spell flying, and Ron leapt back to avoid it. Ron shot spells from both wands he held, and they found Greengrass this time. They collided with her chest, and she was knocked back into Goyle, who had just stood back up. They both crashed to the ground, and Malfoy tightened his grip on his wand smirking. Ron prepared to strike.

"Accio!" Harry called, and Hermione's wand zoomed to his hand. He pocketed it, and Malfoy sniggered when Ron looked shocked and hurt. Ron and Malfoy were both at different levels of wand training, and Malfoy had the lead in skill. Ron seemed to realize that, because he put up a shield. Then he bent over Hermione, who was still unmoving. Greengrass was still collapsed over Goyle, who had hit his head on the wall and seemed to be knocked out. Harry looked down at the two wands in his hands, and felt a surge of guilt. But he did not throw the wand back.

Malfoy smirked at Ron, who had straightened up. Another person entered the hall, and Pansy Parkinson fixed her dark eyes on Hermione's unmoving body. She saw Greengrass's collapsed body, Goyle's lolling head, and Ron and Malfoy's stances. Her eyes found Harry last, and she smiled darkly. She drew her wand, and pointed it straight at Greengrass, whose body lifted into the air. How Pansy knew a non-verbal spell, Harry didn't know. Greengrass's body fell back down with a flump, and Pansy walked over to Malfoy, trailing her wand slowly over to point at Harry.

Ron's shield came crashing down. Pansy whipped around, firing. The blast of red light sped over to collide with Ron. He flung himself forward, and the spell sailed over his head. Pansy shrieked with laughter.

"Weasley, did your poor wittle girlfriend get hit with a spell?" she taunted. "I could hit her with a worse one, if you'd like!"

Malfoy did not shoot a spell as Ron stood, and Pansy fell silent. Ron conjured another shield, leaned down, and felt around Hermione's wrist. He was checking for a pulse. When he had finished, he rose again, his shield still intact. Pansy made her way toward Harry, and leaned against the wall beside him.

"Not getting involved in the dirty stuff, Potter?" she asked quietly out of the corner of her mouth.

"I'll leave that to you," Harry answered, and she smiled. Not a good smile. More of a wicked one.

"I'll take that to heart," she said. "I look forward to getting to know you better tomorrow." She winked, and walked back over to Malfoy, standing beside him. Malfoy didn't look at all phased by this. Harry simply leaned back against the wall, realizing that he had been leaning forward when Pansy had been talking. Ron was blinking irregularly, seeming to be confused. Well, Harry wasn't going to enlighten him.

Pansy elbowed Malfoy, who lowered his wand, and turned to look at Goyle and Greengrass. Pansy kept her eyes on Ron, daring him to fire a spell. Malfoy seemed to realize the time, because he nodded back toward the corridor. Pansy slowly backed away from Ron, and shot a spell to wake Greengrass. She did not stand right away, but her hand tightened around her wand.

"Hurry up, Greengrass," Pansy muttered, and Greengrass stood. Pansy pursed her lips, looking at Goyle, then ignored him. Malfoy gave a dramatic bow to Ron.

"Once we meet again," he drawled. "It'll be more than the Mudblood knocked out." Ron looked furious at the term, but kept his mouth closed. Malfoy sauntered off, and Greengrass followed him. Pansy wandered back over to Harry, and Ron let his shield back down. He pointed his wand at Harry, and it was slightly shaking.

"You just…let…them do … _this_ …" he accused shakily.

"Well," Harry said coldly. "We are supposed to get used to our houses. You better learn to start being loyal. And hard working. Seeing as, of course, that you don't have those traits. And _she_ "—he pointed at Hermione—"better get used to loving studies more than people. Should be simple. She did plenty of that in her first year."

"And you?" Ron spat, wand more steady now. "You're just going to become one of those cold-blooded animals?"

"I certainly hope to," Harry said, more ice entering his tone. "Seeing as this is my house for the rest of my life, I might as well fit in."

Without another word, he started walking in the direction Greengrass and Malfoy had gone. Pansy followed without a word, and they both left Ron with a knocked out Hermione and Goyle.

Harry expected to feel guilty for standing by and doing nothing. He didn't feel guilty, but he didn't feel pleased about it either. Usually Harry didn't care about being the popular kid, but he was different now. It was strange how one word shouted to the Great Hall could change a persons attitude and personality.


	5. Dumbledore Interferes

Heading back to the Slytherin common room with Pansy Parkinson, Harry had plenty of time to think about what he was going to do. He also had a chance to look her over, taking in her shiny hair. Sure, it was shiny, but it had nothing on Cho Chang's. He didn't look for her eyes, because she was staring ahead, and she was walking beside him. Then she stopped.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "I think we need to talk. About...things."

"Such as?"

"Such as…tomorrow. And just the future in general." Pansy didn't look at all embarrassed, even if she did stumble on her words. "And the fact that, besides today, we've always been mortal enemies, and I don't think we expected that to change."

Harry sighed. "Look, if you don't have anything to say that I don't already know, then I will be headed back."

"Midnight's going to change everything," Pansy told him, and he rolled his eyes, starting to stride away. "I know you're trying to get out of this," Pansy called after him. "But really, what's so bad about this? Name three things that are completely horrible about this arrangement!"

"You, Slytherin, Malfoy, the end," Harry named, and then strode away. Pansy huffed, Harry hearing it more as a sigh, and he rounded the corner.

Pansy was glad she had kept her mouth shut. While Potter was busy striding out of sight, she was contemplating what he had said. If you skipped the first and second one, Pansy could totally understand where he was coming from. Draco Malfoy is the bludger in a Quidditch match. He's the one rocketing around knocking others down. Not that Pansy didn't do that herself, but the way he did it was way more impressive.

Now, going back to the second one, Pansy didn't see where he was coming from. He had just insulted her, and himself at the same time. If the idiot never got over the fact that he was a Slytherin now, he was going to have a rough life come graduation.

And the first one…what was so bad about her? Yes, she was rude, and sassy, and teasing to others, such as Mudblood Granger, but if you ignored that…she was just Pansy. Black haired, dark eyed Pansy Parkinson.

If you really thought about it, it was actually surprising that nothing like this had ever happened. And if it did, she'd never heard of it.

Leaning back against the wall, Pansy wondered what she should do going forward. Potter was obviously not happy about the family contract, and he apparently wanted to stop it from happening. Well, there wasn't any getting out of this. It was a blood oath.

Pansy pulled out her wand, and began to trace a shape in the air. "Did Malfoy dump you, Parkinson?" someone asked with an edge of sass. Pansy leaned forward, and her eyes came to rest on… Granger. Granger's eyes were wild with fury, and her wand was directed straight at Pansy's chest. Her hair was matted with dust, and she had a small cut on her jaw.

"I ask questions, you answer," Granger ordered. Pansy did not reply. "What spell do you have Harry Potter under?" she asked, cold and crisp.

"No spell," Pansy told her.

Granger lunged forward, and Pansy's grip on her wand tightened. Granger restrained herself, and asked again, "What spell is Harry. Potter. Under?"

"He's not under a spell," Pansy answered again. "He's been shown the light."

Granger muttered something foul under her breath, and Pansy almost laughed. Granger wasn't one to swear, but losing Potter must've been a massive blow. Like losing your backbone, she suspected. Granger's wand lowered, and she slashed it through the air.

Harry had been waiting for this. He saw Hermione's wand slash through the air, and he also saw Pansy's wand twirl. The spell fired from Hermione's wand flew to collide with Pansy, but the shield Pansy had conjured blocked it, firing the spell back to Hermione. The witches dueled, spells flying, bursts of color before Harry's eyes. A shriek echoed in the hallway, and soon people were appearing to watch. Harry saw Ron fighting his way through to get to Hermione, so he pulled out his own wand.

Harry strode through the crowd, so when Ron emerged, he saw Harry first, standing in his way. Ron's eyes narrowed, and Harry's mouth curled up in a sneer. Harry slashed his wand through the air, and the wizard duel began.

Pansy was twisting and flipping to avoid spells the Mudblood was firing with intense speed. She saw more flashes of light and shouts, and knew Draco had joined the brawl, likely fighting off Weasley. Granger threw another spell at Pansy, and she ducked. The spell collided with a Hufflepuff girl, and she shrieked. Pansy was shocked that teachers hadn't arrived on the scene yet. Granger's eyes flickered with the little humanity she had left when she heard the girl scream. Pansy struck.

And was blown backward by a blast of red light.

Harry heard a shriek, and knew that a bystander had been hit with a spell likely fired by Pansy. Ron had conjured a shield, and wasn't moving from his spot. He heard a scream that registered with his brain. Hermione shrieking. Ron froze, but his shield remained up. Harry couldn't see what was behind him, but Ron could.

"ENOUGH!" roared a voice so loud it probably echoed throughout the whole castle. Harry's wand was ripped from his hand, and saw Ron's shield come crashing down as his wand to was summoned to the hands of the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Harry instantly whirled around. Pansy was collapsed on the ground, her eyes open, but her body unmoving. Hermione was on her knees, wailing. Ron was frozen in shock, and Harry…Harry…

Harry moved to Pansy. The whole school watched as he walked to Pansy, and sat down beside her. Listened as he whispered, "You're always getting yourself in trouble." Albus Dumbledore did not give Harry, Ron, Hermione, or Pansy their wands back. Ron had moved to sit by Hermione, and Dumbledore was red-faced with fury. Probably the only time Harry had ever seen him go red with fury.

Madam Pomfrey hurried forward, kneeling beside Pansy. She conjured a stretcher, and lifted Pansy's body onto it. She then bustled away, not seeming to care about the other duelers.

Harry rose to his feet, and so did Ron. Ron looked shame-filled. Hermione wobbled to her feet, bright tears still streaming down her face. Harry tried not to make an expression, but if he had to guess at what his face looked like, he'd guess pained. Dumbledore's fury was receding, you could see it in his eyes.

"You three," he rumbled, "are in a _lot_ of trouble."


End file.
